Chapter 42
Vincent da silva
Dash was nervous, more so than I’d ever seen.
Who could blame him, though? Today, he was getting a DNA test to see if Piera was his.
For a man who never wanted kids, he was obsessed with his daughter, but in a good way.
Not the sick, dastardly Jackyl Bianchi manner.
He was hellbent on giving her a better life than he had.
He may have grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth, but had been neglected everywhere else, and that was one thing I could say would never be an issue with Piera.
She was still spoiled, getting everything she could ever dream of having, but he balanced it out with one on one interaction.
Every free minute he had was taking her to the park to run around and get dirty, or laying on the floor to play with her dolls.
More than once, he’d shown up to work with nail polish from a makeover the night before. Dash was a damn good father.
His palms were rubbing up and down the sides of his thighs as he walked toward me after signing in with the receptionist. Looking all around, he flinched when making eye contact with someone else. His chin bowing, he hurried to the seat beside me and sat down.
“Why’d you pick this place?”
Flipping through a magazine, I mumbled out the corner of my mouth, low enough for just him to hear. “I brought Letta out here a few years ago. It was far enough away from home that Jackyl wouldn’t find out.”
He did a doubletake and ogled my profile. Whispering, “No, shit,” his jaw fell further. “When?”
I huffed, closed the magazine, and tossed it back to the low table. “With Eddie.”
He was slow blinking, his expression dazed.
My head tipped to scratch behind an ear, my features scrunching.
“Yeah, it, uh. It, his mom died, and he was in town for the funeral. He drove by her place to check it out, she came home and caught him, and they had a little chat. He took off and she followed him to his hotel room. One thing led to another and.” I shrugged my hands out, pursing my lips.
“As soon as I picked her up off the floor and calmed her down, I brought her out here.”
He licked his lips and gulped. “He’s Jackyl’s, though, right?”
I snorted and cast a look that showed I thought the question was absurd. “You got eyes, don’t ya? Of course, he was the father.”
He clucked his teeth and slouched a bit in his chair.
“Eh, like it matters anyhow now. He’s dead.
Jesus, I still can’t believe he’s dead. You know, I still think I hear my phone ringing with his ringtone?
” He tilted his head to look at me. “I can legit hear that song echoing in the house and I’ll be damned if I don’t go to pick up my phone and answer him. ”
A bitter snort caught the back of my throat as I propped an ankle on my knee and folded my arms. “Mary and Jack need to just let the fuck go. I’m kinda sick of this shit.”
“It does kinda feel like we’re being haunted, huh?”
“Ain’t we? That spooky gross bitch just walks all over the place,” I grumbled, waving my arm out before recrossing it. “Like she’s still alive, and all.”
The man a few chairs overheard us and looked our way, his brows lifted. Sneering, Dash jutted his chin and hissed, “You got a fucking problem, man?”
He startled and bristled, blinking swiftly. Clearing his throat, he stood to move to a different chair.
“That’s right, bitch. Mind your damn business.”
I chuckled, tugging at my ear. “You gotta calm down, babe.”
“How the fuck do I do that, Vin? Huh? I’m minutes from finding out if acorn’s mine. What the hell am I gonna do if she ain’t?”
“Nothing,” I said sternly, turning a bit in the chair to look at him better.
“There ain’t nothing to do.” I lowered my voice to just above a whisper and leaned closer.
“They’re both dead, Dash. Me, you, and the doc, we’re all the ones gonna know the truth.
If Jackyl turns out to be her father, that goes to the grave with us, you got my word. ”
He frowned, gazing at me somberly. “But…I mean, I didn’t want kids but now I got one and…” He huffed, splaying his hands out. “I kinda like being a daddy.”
“You’re still her dad—”
“I mean, mine,” he stressed, banging his palm to his chest. He sunk a little lower and set his ankle on a knee, that foot bouncing.
His lips thinning, his lids lowered. “She’s my acorn, Vin.
I planted a seed that would grow and make acorns of her own one day.
I was immortal through her.” He sighed and shook his head, dipping his chin to his chest. “I had planned to have more acorns and plant a whole forest. Mary’s dead, ain’t got that option no more.
Piera was all I had, and now…” He gulped, a muscle in his jaw flexing.
“Hey. You gonna love that little girl any less if she ain’t your legacy?”
His brows arching, his head tipped to make eye contact. “Hell, no.”
“Then it don’t mean nothing, man. She is your legacy. It ain’t about genetics, it’s how you raise that girl, and you’re doing a goddamn good job.”
A small chuckle pushed through his nose, one corner of his mouth lifting. “You think?”
“Of course. And we can still have other kids.”
His eyelids rounded, the smile spreading wider. “We.”
“Huh?”
“You said, ‘we.’ ‘We’ can have more kids.”
My stomach bottomed out and ice rolled through my veins. My pulse shaking, I started stumbling over my words, horrified I’d slip up like that. “I, uh, mean, I-I-I…”
“Hey.” His boot hit the floor to sit up properly, a hand covering mine while leaning closer. Taking my jaw between his index and thumb, he forced me to look at him fully. “You’re right. We can have more kids one day. There’ll be more acorns to plant.”
A surge of adrenaline hit and I gawked. “You serious?”
“Yeah, why not?” He sat normally, patting my hand. Heaving a long sigh, he closed his eyelids and then rubbed his face. “Jesus, what’s taking so long? I’m ready to know.”
Grimacing, I sucked the back of my teeth, getting all anxious again. “Uh, Dash?”
“Hm?”
“Babe, I hate to say this, but…”
He squinted and gazed at me suspiciously. “What, Vin?”
I cleared my throat, huffed, and blurted, “You ain’t getting the results today. It takes about three days.”
He jerked in the chair and bristled, his expression devastated. “What?” he blasted.
Cringing, I skimmed the room at everyone ogling us now. With a quick glance to the reception, my focus snatched back at a sign taped to the glass partition and dread weighted my stomach.
“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, shaking my head.
“What? What now?”
My features scrunching, a shoulder curled upward, that hand motioning. “Monday’s a federal holiday. You ain’t getting the results until Tuesday.”
“Mother…fucker.”
He completely blanched, eyes bulging. Cursing under my breath, I slumped in the chair and twined my fingers with his. Firmly squeezing them, my thumb stroked his knuckles in a futile attempt to soothe his anxiety.
This was going to be the longest weekend ever, probably longer than those weeks in Georgia. Dash was not going to be okay. It was like that week with Violetta, all over.